


Escapist

by RobinRedR



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Character Death, Ereri Secret Santa 2015, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Nonbinary Hange Zoë, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 14:34:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5501012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinRedR/pseuds/RobinRedR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eren is trapped in a memory. Levi doesn't know how to let go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Escapist

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Imaginary_Moon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imaginary_Moon/gifts).



> This is for imaginary-moon. I do hope you like this, I tried to take a different approach to your reincarnation prompt. Happy Holidays ^^

Eren turned away from the open window with a groan, throwing an arm over his face as he tried to become one with the bed sheets, clinging tightly to the last shreds of sleep that tugged at his unconscious. The bedroom windows faced east, which sounded all romantic and Shakespeare-like on paper, until he’d realized it meant the fucking sun would be shining right into his eyes every morning at the ass-crack of dawn.

Levi didn’t believe in curtains. He said it was healthier to stay attuned to the day’s natural circadian rhythm or some such hippie bullshit. That didn’t explain why he was also frequently up until two or three am typing steadily at his laptop, and leaving Eren to fall asleep cold and alone in their double bed at night.

Speaking of which… Eren cracked open an eye, fixing his blurry gaze on the back of his fiancé, seated at his desk against the opposite wall of the bedroom. Eren watched him quietly for a moment, admiring the way the cool morning sun painted Levi’s bare back into softer hues and purple shadows that accentuated the muscles of his upper torso.

Alright, so maybe there were _some_ benefits to an east-facing window after all.

“Levi,” he sighed sleepily into the crook of his elbow, sprawling languidly across the covers in a cat-like stretch. “It’s not even seven o’clock. No one should be awake this early on a Sunday.”

The only answer Eren received was a short pause in the clacking of keys, before Levi continued typing with renewed vigour. Eren rolled his eyes, and slid out of bed to stand behind the other’s shoulder. He knew inspiration struck Levi more often early in the morning or late at night, and he knew better by now to try and interrupt him when Levi was ‘in the zone.’

He attempted to focus on the words Levi was typing on the laptop screen, but they just looked like gibberish to him. He probably wasn’t awake enough yet to process the complicated web of words Levi was determined to spin into a novel.

Not a novel, Eren corrected himself mentally, lips turning down in the corners as he watched Levi’s slender fingers pause on a key, then irritably backspace an entire paragraph. What would one day, hopefully, be published as a novel in this world would always be an account of so much more to Eren and his friends, former comrades, and family. For Levi had taken it upon himself to write down the book of their lives, the stories they all shared of a different lifetime, a foreign past that only so few remembered.

Some people had chosen to fully embrace their new life in this modern world that had offered them so many more opportunities than the lands within the Walls, but some steadfastly clung on to the memories and refused to put the past behind them. Levi repeatedly said he owed it to the fallen soldiers to never forget their names and their lives. That it was his duty to keep them alive in memory, or at least in imagination; and the Captain always kept his promises, even to dead men.

The beauty of their situation was that even dead men had another chance this life around.

“Do you want me to make breakfast?” Eren suggested when another minute passed by in silence, figuring that Levi wasn’t about to take a break any time soon. He reached out to squeeze Levi’s shoulder encouragingly, but something held him back, and he paused with his fingers hovering just over Levi’s pale skin.

The other man stiffened suddenly, and his eyes whipped up to stare at Eren in something akin to confusion. They held each other’s gaze for an uncomfortable moment before Eren dropped his hand, stepping back to widen the unbreachable space between them.

“I should make breakfast,” Levi murmured in a low tone, raspy around the edges from disuse, as if Eren hadn’t just suggested the very same thing a moment ago. The brunet felt guilty that he’d broken Levi’s concentration, but reasoned internally that it was probably better for Levi in the long run to start the day off healthily. If Levi was left to his own devices, he’d probably still be sitting at this desk twelve hours from then.

Eren nodded with a smile, but Levi wasn’t really looking at him anymore. His eyes had taken on a distant look, the blue-grey of his irises muted. Eren stared back at the screen with a frown as Levi made his way over to the apartment’s kitchenette to put two pieces of bread in the toaster.

 

 

 

Eren wasn’t going to _complain._ Their life was good now. Better than it had ever been. No threat of imminent death hanging over their heads every waking moment. No dark nights consumed with grief for the people he had lost. The new world was far from perfect, but it was a world in which he could be _free._ They could be free together.

But… he felt like he hadn’t left Levi’s apartment in ages. Days? Months? It was difficult to keep a coherent grasp on the time that passed. Levi worked from home, and much of his life was dictated by a careful routine, so the days tended to flow together. He couldn’t remember if they’d ever gone on a date together ever since Eren had moved in.

The only time Levi ever left the building was to go grocery shopping three times a week, and Eren never went with him. Why not? He wasn’t sure.

 _It would be enough_ , Eren mused, watching Levi brush his teeth in the bathroom mirror, careful not to disturb Eren’s toothbrush that lay on the side of the sink. _This was how it had to be._

 

 

 

 _Hey, um hello,_ the post on Levi’s public Facebook fan page had read, the one Hanji had set up for him to increase publicity and maybe connect with his readers. _I’m sorry if this is weird, but I just read your most recent publication, the short story about the soldiers! It was great. I was just wondering… is Rivaille a pen name? Because I think I might know you. My name is Eren Jaeger, I hope we might be able to talk a little… (PS. My best friends Armin and Mikasa loved your story as well…! It seemed really familiar……!)_

Levi had almost laughed, and then his breath had caught in his throat in a sob, a myriad of emotions coursing through him that he was too overwhelmed to try and identify. It was Eren, _his_ Eren, there was no denying it. And even if his pixelated profile picture hadn’t confirmed it, Levi could almost hear the adorable dork stumbling over his words as he tried to reach out across the anonymity of the Internet, desperately hopeful that he wasn’t barking up the wrong tree.

In hindsight, maybe writing under a _pen name_ when he was trying to bring together the people of his past wasn’t the most effective method he’d ever come up with. But Levi had had many enemies behind the Walls, and it was ingrained in him to be careful with revealing his identity. People could hold grudges across lifetimes, and his hands were stained with far too much blood.

It didn’t matter in the end, because Eren had found him anyway.

Levi had called Hanji immediately, fingers shaking so hard around his cell phone that he could barely press the right buttons. It felt like a cube of ice had settled in the pit of his stomach, sharp corners scraping against his insides every time he moved. He recognized the sensation as _fear._ Joy and hope that was so strong and sharp it made him _terrified._

Levi had reconnected with many of his old friends and comrades over the years, but it hadn’t ever happened like this before. Hanji themselves had been the first one to burst into his life, decades ago in his fourth grade classroom. They’d become fast friends before they even fully remembered why they had recognized each other, and Levi was grudgingly thankful that he’d had someone who understood exactly what he was going through as they tried to make sense of their memories and to grow into their old identities.

Hanji had found Erwin on their own in eighth grade, after three years of scouring the news worldwide for mentions of governor and mayor elections. He lived with Mike across the ocean now, and they spoke only occasionally.

Isabel and Farlan had shown up on his front doorstep, the first day of summer vacation his sophomore year of college, carrying two massive suitcases and two matching grins. They’d been in their late twenties at the time, recently married. Levi had stared and stared and then fallen upon them in a burst of affection that he’d never allowed himself (or had the chance to) express before.

Isabel had cried into his arms and told him that this time, _she’d_ be his ‘big sis.’ Farlan had just smiled and ruffled Levi’s hair, and that was that. Levi had never asked how they’d found him. What mattered was that they _had._

As for the rest of Levi’s family… Kenny had called a few years ago. He was two years younger than Levi this time around, and hell if that wasn’t backwards as fuck. They’d talked once on the phone, and agreed to never resume communication again. Sometimes bad blood couldn’t just be glossed over in another life, and neither had any intention of keeping company around that they couldn’t help but despise.

Other people had come and gone, former comrades or acquaintances. Levi had soon come to realize that most people, once they accepted that their dreams and visions were memories, rather than marks of a mental illness, weren’t always keen on reconnecting with the people of their past the way Levi and Hanji were. Not when seeing their faces every day would only remind them of pain and terror and bloodshed. Petra, for one, had asked him not to call again after he’d first found her. She was a mother of three now, and she’d made a new life for herself, a better one. She didn’t want to be reminded of her failures from before, of the trauma that still haunted her dreams at night.

It was easier, for some people, to simply forget. To accept that fate had dealt them a new hand, and then move on.

Of the Titan shifters, Levi hadn’t heard a single world of in all his twenty-five years. He’d wondered if maybe only those who were fully human had been given the chance to be born again. The thought had filled him with a hollow sense of loss, a void of desperation that tugged more forcibly on the edge of his conscience with every new day that passed fruitlessly. He would have liked answers. He would have liked to speak to them face to face, to be able to forgive them, perhaps, for the sins they had committed. But more so than that… He and _Eren_ … maybe they could have had a chance at something in this world, to discover a depth of relationship that had been difficult to explore in a world at war. There were very few people Levi had ever grown close to, and Eren was the only one still missing from his small circle.

But now the miracle had happened.

_“Hello? Levi, it’s two am, what’s the crisis?”_

“He found me,” Levi breathed shakily into the phone. “He found us. Hanji, it’s him, it’s really him.”

 

 

 

Eren was helping Levi clean the bathroom when the doorbell rang, a shrill tone that broke through their comfortable silence. He placed his toothbrush and razor back in their designated spots on the side of the sink, and turned expectantly towards his fiancé. Levi groaned, making as if to run a hand through his hair before he remembered his fingers were covered in soap.

“Who d’you think that is?”

“Nothing good, that’s for sure,” Levi sighed under his breath as he stood up, joints cracking audibly. Eren trailed after him as he stalked irritably to the front door.

“Yes? Who is it?” Levi snapped through the wood, leaning in as if he could somehow identify the stranger by the sound of their breathing through the door. Their apartment didn’t have a peephole, and it was one of Levi’s greatest griefs. He _despised_ having strangers in his apartment. He mostly despised having friends in his apartment too, for that matter. Eren snickered under his breath, feeling a thrill of pride at how comfortable Levi had become around him.

“It’s your landlord,” said a vaguely familiar voice, muffled through the door. “I have a few questions about your last overdue rent payment.” Levi paused, glancing over his shoulder at Eren but the boy shrugged, as lost as he was.

Levi begrudgingly unlatched the door. “I’m sorry, I think there must be a mistake. I’ve already paid this month’s—”

“Surprise!” A bundle of brightly coloured clothes and wild hair flew through the door, nearly knocking Levi on his ass with the force of its arrival. Eren fell off the chair he’d been leaning against.

“ _Hanji?!”_ Levi spat in disbelief, trying to compose himself the way a ruffled cat attempts to nonchalantly smooth its fur after being caught off guard.

“Indeed, it is I, your beloved editor and partner in crime,” they bowed before Levi, a knitted yellow scarf falling from their neck and trailing unheeded on the floor. “I hail from the dark, dangerous lands outside this concrete safety bunker! I have travelled far and wide to bring you my gifts of peace.” Hanji held out a Tupperware box with a victorious flourish.

Levi blinked. “You live across the street.”

Hanji laughed, loudly and abruptly, and shrugged their patchy jacket off, tossing it towards Eren who draped it over the back of his chair. “Well, considering how often you decide to pay a visit, I might as well be living on the other side of the planet!”

Eren couldn’t help but snort in agreement, and Levi shot him a poisonous look. Hanji was an acquired taste to most, but Eren loved it when Levi’s eccentric best friend came over. Hanji was wild and brash but razor smart and surprisingly perceptive, filled to the brim with life. Sometimes the atmosphere of their apartment got frighteningly claustrophobic and gloomy, but Hanji was like a brilliant star that burned light into the darkest corner. Things were always a little clearer in Eren’s mind after they came to visit.

“I can’t believe you pretended to be my _landlord,”_ Levi sighed, ignoring the proffered Tupperware with a distasteful curl of his lip. “I did not expect that one.” Hanji beamed, as if he had just given them high praise and compliments. Levi turned toward the kitchen to get them all three glasses of water.

Hanji shrugged, pushing their thick-rimmed glasses up their nose. “I knew you’d just lock the door if I didn’t trick my way in. And as effective as breaking in was, I don’t want a repeat of the last time.”

Yes, last time Hanji had taken a wire to the apartment door, but had failed to double-check which door it was they were trying to pick. Levi’s neighbours were _still_ disgruntled about that violent invasion, which was most definitely unfair because he refused to acknowledge any association with the health hazard that was Dr. Hanji Zoe.

“What’s in the box?” Eren asked, because whatever it was, it smelled delicious. The sides were still steamy and warm, condensation beading on the inside of the plastic lid. Eren was sure Hanji must have just made the dish and then run over the street to them.

“I have dinner for you,” Hanji answered, thrusting the box into Levi’s empty hands as soon as he set down their glasses of water.

“I don’t need your toxic waste, thank you very much.”

“When was the last time you had a proper meal? A _warm_ meal?” Hanji argued, eyes narrowing dangerously. They had a point, Eren conceded silently.

“Eren can cook,” Levi waved dismissively, taking a calculated sip from his glass of water. Hanji’s mouth hardened into a thin line at that, and the atmosphere shifted into something more uncomfortable. Eren swallowed nervously, glancing from one to the other.

“Maybe Eren can cook,” Hanji said slowly, “but _you_ certainly can’t. Take the damn lasagne.”

Levi glowered stubbornly. “If this is supposed to be some kind of attempt at a Christmas gift…”

“You don’t even celebrate Christmas, Levi, give me some credit!” Hanji’s voice raised in exasperation. “Count it as a late Hanukkah gift for all I care.” Levi made a face, but Hanji barrelled on. “I know how much you like my lasagne, even when you pretend to gag on it. I _saw_ you take seconds at my graduation party last year, so don’t even try to lie to me,” they warned with a grin, before their expression sobered again. “Imagine how much Eren would have loved it.” Hanji hesitated. “How much Eren _will_ love it,” they corrected.

Levi stared at them for a tense moment. Eren bit his lip, staring down at the floor between his feet because he couldn’t bear to look at his fiancé’s expression any longer.

“Hm,” Levi finally hummed, breaking the silence. His fingers curled around the warm plastic as he clutched the box to his chest in acceptance. His eyes had that distant look to them again, and Eren noticed how Hanji’s cheerful façade wavered slightly, a glimmer of the hurt and pity they felt shining through. “He probably will.”

Levi didn’t notice, or if he did, made no further comment.

Hanji served them three plates, and Eren wished with a painful twist in his heart that he could taste the food the way Levi imagined he would.

 

 

 

The door was unlocked, and that was the first sign Hanji had that something was wrong. Levi _never_ left the door unlocked, not even when he was drunk off his ass or if he hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours.

Levi was seated on his couch, covered in a mountain of blankets and pillows, and illuminated only by the flickering light of the television. The apartment smelt faintly musty, like the windows hadn’t been opened in a while. There was a fine layer of dust on the shelves, the kind that accumulated over just a few days. Hanji steeled themselves, preparing for the worst. They knew Levi better than most, better than _anyone_ really, but in this moment, even they were lost.

Levi’s eyes were dark and sunken in his face when he flicked his gaze to them briefly, and then back to the screen.

Hanji caught a glimpse of Helena Bonham Carter on the film. “You’re watching _Fight Club_?” they exclaimed, caught off guard. Everyone knew Levi wasn’t very fond of violent movies, especially not those featuring a lot of blood and gore. (He said he’d seen enough of that shit in real life to last him another few lifetimes.)

“Mhm.” Levi nodded slowly, settling deeper into the cushions and beginning to resemble an amorphous blob. “It’s Eren’s favourite movie.”

Hanji flinched, ever so slightly. They hadn’t expected Levi to just casually throw Eren’s name around like that, not so soon after the accident. Even hearing this small detail about the boy’s interests that Hanji had never known made a lump form in their throat. They’d been awfully fond of the kid, even if they’d never got a chance to meet him in person in their new life. Hanji coughed quietly, forcing their hands to stop trembling.

“Levi…” they tried once their voice had steadied, waiting until the man turned his gaze back on them. “You’re ah… Are you—”

“Watching a movie, yes. Which you are kindly ruining for us.”

Hanji rolled their eyes, relieved to see Levi hadn’t lost any of his snark yet. They moved to slump into the spot next to him, but Levi pushed them away forcibly as if the seat were already occupied.

“Christ, I’m sorry, you can finish watching in a minute, but I just need to be sure that you know that… none of this was your—”

Levi sighed dramatically. “Hanji, you’re interrupting our first proper date night as it is, the least you could do is make yourself scarce. Or go make some food. That would be greatly appreciated, actually.”

Hanji blinked at him owlishly, then focused on the empty seat beside him, and finally returned their gaze to Levi’s face with a dawning sense of comprehension.

The plural pronouns. Levi’s odd lack of hesitation in bringing up Eren’s name. The fact that it had been more than a week since the accident, and Levi hadn’t even cancelled his honeymoon plans yet.

“Alright, Levi.” Hanji closed their eyes, biting down hard on their lip to keep their emotions in check. “I’ll make you… both… some popcorn, sound good? And we can watch the rest of the movie together.”

 

 

 

“Erwin, why are you calling?” Levi bit out through a tightly clenched jaw. He was sitting stiffly in front of his computer screen, glowering at the fuzzy image of a blond man open on his skype window. Eren shuffled closer to the end of the bed, eyes narrowing as he tried to focus on the other man’s face. Something about his shrewd eyes and chiselled jaw seemed familiar, but Eren couldn’t quite place him. That was wrong, he knew it was wrong. This man was important, somehow; he was clearly important to Levi, and thus Eren should know him.

He pushed away his mounting frustration, knowing it would do him no good to rage internally. He was forgetting a lot of things these days: faces, names, bits and pieces of his past. Not even Hanji’s frequent visits could keep the fuzziness away from his the edges of his mind now. There was nothing he could do to change that.

_“I’m your friend. Am I not allowed to call you every so often?”_

Levi snorted. “Right. A hell of a friend you are.”

The blond man’s broad shoulders slumped slightly. He seemed to take up the entire screen with his breadth, and Eren had no doubt that this man would be an imposing sight in person. “ _Mike and I are worried about you, that’s all. I just wanted to check in.”_

“Check in? _Hah_!” Levi’s fists had clenched, skin stretched white over his knuckles. Eren wished he could take Levi’s hand in his and smooth out the tension in his muscles, but his body felt frozen to this bed. He could do nothing but watch.

“If you really cared,” Levi seethed, “you’d have gotten into one of your fucking private jets and flown over here yourself instead of making a shitty skype call once a month and pretending like that’s all that counts. You have the goddamn money for it, your ‘net worth’ is plastered all over the fucking news and political forums these days.”

_“I would have come if I could, you know that. I’m sorry I missed the funeral, but—”_

Levi had gone still as a statue. “I don’t care what your excuses are this time, Erwin. You don’t have the right to be ‘worried about me’. I get it, alright? You have your life over there, and your job, and that’s important to you. The two of us would never even have been friends if we didn’t come from the same fucked up—”

 _“Look,”_ Erwin raised his voice, eyes hardening. _“I’m sorry I haven’t been a better friend to you the last few months. That’s my fault, I accept that. But I’m trying to make it up to you now. You’re in a bad place, Levi, and I just want to help. Don’t you dare think we were_ ever _friends just out of_ necessity _; I’ve always cared about you, and I always will.”_

“I’m _fine._ I don’t know why everyone keeps insisting that I’m not. The only thing that’s _not_ fine is the amount of bullshit I have to hear every day from people like you. Just leave me alone, that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Something crumbled in Eren, and he curled up on the covers with his head in his arms. He wished he could plug his ears. He couldn’t stand seeing Levi shatter into a million brightly carved shards like this, in front of one of his oldest friends no less. He didn’t want to hear any of it, but he couldn’t move from the room either. As if bound to him by a morbid curiosity to see just how far Levi would fall, because maybe then, and only then, he’d be able to pick up the pieces.

Erwin was staring through the screen with an unquantifiable look in his eyes, and Eren imagined they were mirroring each other’s expressions.

_“If that’s what you really want, Levi.”_

Eren wanted to scream, or shout, to cling to Erwin – whoever he was -- and beg him to come back because this was _not_ fine, none of this was ever going to be fine again. But Levi only ended the call, turned off the lights, and slipped into his side of the bed without even taking his clothes off.

Fine. Everything was fine.

Eren lay down next to him, careful that their bodies did not touch (even if they’d been able to), and tucked his hands under his cheek as the tears ran silently down his face.

 _Please, Levi,_ he begged, for the very first time. _Please let me go._

 

 

 

Green. They were green. That was the first thing Levi could think when their eyes met, and he hated the way his heart stuttered in his chest like he imagined sappy teenagers reacted in those unrealistic romance novels Hanji sometimes sent him "for inspiration." He’d skipped over that phase of his life completely – twice. He definitely did not need it coming to bite him in the ass now of all times.

But hell, he’d forgotten just how green Eren’s eyes were.

“Would it be incredibly inappropriate for me to say, ‘I’ve waited a lifetime to see you again’?” Eren murmured, so quietly it was a miracle Levi heard him at all against the backdrop of the busy airport terminal.

He wanted to kiss him. He wanted to kiss him so strongly it was like a physical pain in his chest, the kind of pain that burned and burned until he was raw all the way through, and it wasn’t just pain anymore, it was agony. And it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever felt.

“We just saw each other twelve hours ago on the screen of our phones,” was what Levi ended up saying, and then cringed internally. Why was it that his profession was a _writer_ and yet he was still so terribly inarticulate when it came to _actually using words in real life_?

Two years. They’d been doing the long-distance thing for two years because Eren had had to finish university and Levi had no money for a plane ticket, but the wait was over now. The last time they’d seen each other in the flesh had been on Levi’s last expedition beyond the Walls. How things had changed since then, he thought wryly.

He gestured to Eren’s modestly-sized suitcase, trying to stop his heart from thumping too hard and giving him a stroke. “That’s all you’ve brought?”

Eren grinned, shrugging a shoulder in a loose movement, his limbs still gangly with youth but with the promise of filling out soon enough. “Eh, I don’t have much I care about back there, not much to bring with me. You know what they say,” he continued with a sly wink, “home is where the heart is!”

Levi could have punched him for that one. He kissed him instead.  

 

 

 

Eren proposed to him in the car on their way home from the airport. He didn’t have a ring, or a speech, or _anything,_ because it was a spur of the moment decision and Eren’s life was largely defined by a series of reckless and rash decisions like this.

“ _Why?!”_

 _“_ Why not?!”

And, well, that had been a good enough reason for Levi in the moment. He probably should have stopped the car at that point. He should have pulled over, and kissed the living daylights out of the brat until some passer-by blew their horn at them. Then they’d have driven home in a giddy cloud of anticipation, and Levi would have carried Eren over the threshold like it was their wedding night already. And it would have been perfect.

But as it was, attempting to drive across a busy intersection after he’d just lost a boyfriend and gained a fiancé was not the _safest_ thing Levi had ever done.

He didn’t even see the truck barrelling through a red light until it collided head on with the passenger side of Levi’s car, crumpling the metal casing instantaneously. There was a split-second moment where he saw the shock register on Eren’s face, the sound of splintering glass, and then everything went black.

 

_“It’s been three years, Levi. It’s not fair to you, and it’s not fair to Eren. None of your friends have the balls to say it to your face, but someone has to do it. So here I am. I took a fucking plane to get here so you better not make me regret this: We were never all that sympathetic to each other, but you were always my Captain and I’ll always respect you. It’s my duty to help you in any way I can, and if that means beating the truth into you, I’m entirely willing to do that. This needs to end, now.”_

_“It wasn’t your fault. None of it was. You have to believe that.”_

_“I loved him too, you know? We all did. Do you think this is what he would want? For you to keep living your life in a fantasy? I know it hurts and there’s no one it’s hurt more than you. But life has to go on. It always does.”_

_“Can I… can I at least see him? That’s… That was the man I was supposed to marry.”_

_“…It’s been three years, huh?”_

_“Please, let me go. It’s alright now.”_

Levi hadn’t ever visited Eren’s grave before this day. He’d never attended the funeral all those years ago, because to him, there had been no funeral.

There was a bouquet of white lilies already lying upon the stone when Levi kneeled down in the dewy grass, the petals dry and crinkling, and obviously a few days old. He wondered who had left them there. Armin and Mikasa had flown back to their hometown already, and Hanji was away on a business trip. No one knew he had come to the graveyard, and he hoped he wouldn’t be interrupted.

 _Eren Jaeger,_ read the tombstone, black on grey, stark letters freshly engraved. A warm breeze rustled the leaves of the birch trees lining the walkway, and Levi closed his eyes. He had to do this. It was the only way to make things right again.

Someone was holding his hand. At least it felt that way. Levi didn’t dare open his eyes, as he fumbled with his bag to take out the single daffodil that he’d purchased earlier that morning. It was the first day of spring.

Levi laid the flower down on the stone to the sound of birds twittering and new stalks of grass growing between the headstones.

 _Go in peace,_ he whispered, and the hold on his hand slackened for the last time.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize if things are a little rushed and messy, I was running out of time at the end (I'm leaving for India in literally half an hour and won't have wifi until February so my deadline is absolute lmao). I'll go back and fix things when I'm not so stressed :(
> 
> Comments with your thoughts/questions are much appreciated ^^


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